


Trial of a Timepiece

by BlueOatmeal



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Abuse, Coercion, Gen, Neglect, Time Travel, Workplace Abuse, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-09 19:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17413046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueOatmeal/pseuds/BlueOatmeal
Summary: Danny uncovers an age-old injustice involving The Master of Time, but what chance do he and his friends have against the ghosts who hold Clockwork's leash? Fragments of the past, present, and future become pieces of evidence in the largest trial the Ghost Zone has ever seen.





	1. A Calculated Risk

“No. It won’t work out the way you want it to. We need to refrain from interfering here.” 

“Oh?  _Now_  you want to stop screwing around with the timeline? Look for yourself, Clockwork. This needs to be fixed.” The Observants waved towards the portal in front of them. 

“Oh, I’m looking. I see a situation with multiple widely-varying possibilities with extensive consequences. Besides being dangerous on its own, it’s practically a beacon for time-travelers.” 

“Afraid you'd lose them again?” They asked, an edge to their tone. 

Clockwork grit his teeth and stared down the Observants. “No, I’m afraid of contaminating an already volatile event without sufficient reason. Your plan  _could_  work, I’ll grant you that—“  

“Then  _why n_ _—!?"_

“ _But,_ ” Clockwork continued, shouting over them, “The situation could just as likely turn in our favor on its own, and there is a significant possibility that our interference could make matters worse.” 

“But we can  _see_  that it  _won’t!”_ they screeched. 

“And it’s an established fact—no matter how you might deny it—that I can see more possibilities than you can.” Clockwork countered. 

“'Established’  _nothing,”_  they snapped. “You just want to trick us into going along with whatever  _you_  want to do.” 

“I do not! I’m serious about this!” Clockwork gestured sharply. “I  _refuse_  to interfere here, and nothing you do can convince me to change my mind.” 

“Too much progress is on the line!” they insisted. “Too many lives! You  _must!”_  

“I will  _not!”_  Clockwork gripped tighter to his staff. 

“Then—then we’ll do it ourselves!” 

“You’ll make even more of a mess of it than I would!” Clockwork shouted in exasperation. 

“It can’t be worse than doing nothing!” 

Clockwork got closer to them, glaring menacingly. “Don’t make me cut off all the portals, because I  _will._ ” 

“You can try.”  

Clockwork lunged at them, and the Observants dove through a portal. It spiraled shut, and Clockwork raked his hand through the air. 

“Fools!” he yelled. “You don’t know what you’re doing!” 

The empty tower didn’t answer. The ticking of Clockwork’s gears was the only sound. 

He dashed around the tower, closing every portal he passed. He reached a dark hallway just in time to see the edge of a robe disappear into a swirling green disc. He growled and tried to dart through, but it dissipated as soon as he touched it.  

He flicked his staff around and teleported to a spacious room filled with glass instruments. There were numerous work stations, but every single one was conspicuously empty. One glass disc displayed a live image of himself. He closed his eyes and tensed his shoulders. 

Clockwork swung his staff and smashed through a collection of delicate equipment set up on a desk. He tore open a green portal and disappeared into it. 

* * *

“Hey, Clockwork? Can you help me out? I’ve got this essay due next Friday but the movie I’m supposed to watch is missing from the library. Could you stream it on one of the portals? Clockwork?” Danny Phantom stopped inside the entrance to the tower. “Hello?” 

Danny swooped inside. “Are you busy or something? I can come back tomorrow.” He flew around, searching high and low. “Hey! Anyone home?” The tower was eerily quiet. Usually there was a billion clocks ticking along. “Clockwork? Hello?” 

Danny passed a portal, then backtracked to get a better look at it. The frame was there, but the portal itself was missing. It was just a loop of metal. His eyebrows drew together. He explored further, passing more portal frames, each of them empty. 

He landed and walked up to a small clock on a shelf. The hands were still, and it made no noise. Danny leaned away and glanced through the windows. The Ghost Zone swirled and churned as usual, so time was still moving. Danny curled in on himself in mid-air, drawing his hands close and bringing his knees up. “What’s going on?” he muttered. 

He zipped around, hovering in doorways and looking behind statues and pillars. Nothing seemed out of place or damaged. 

He found him at the top of the tower. 

It was a small room, the top half of which was all windows, looking over the Ghost Zone. In the middle of the floor stood a portal frame, empty like all the others. Clutching at its base, facedown on the floor, was Clockwork. 

Danny unfroze and swooped over. “Dude, are you okay!? What the heck is going on?” 

Clockwork didn’t move. Even his spectral tail was still. Danny swallowed and reached over to pull at his hood. Clockwork’s eyes were dull, and his skin had lost its usual glow. Danny pulled the hood further, eyes wide. The back of his head was a curved glass skull with gears inside. 

Danny gasped and dropped the cloth. He stared, then relaxed. He couldn’t think of a reason why the gears were a bad thing. Several ghosts he knew were machinery-based. He just hadn’t realized Clockwork was one of them. The actual clock in his chest probably should have tipped him off earlier, he reasoned.  

He hesitated, then cautiously pulled Clockwork’s limp hands from the portal base and flipped him over. The clock in his chest was as still and silent as the rest of the tower. Danny let out a long breath. This was bad. 

He cleared his throat. “Hey, uh. Dude. Clockwork.” He prodded his face. “You um, gotta wake up or whatever. You’re freaking me out.” He tapped on the glass in his chest. “This is super weird, dude. Seriously.” He thought of the different ways to tell if a human was alive or not, but none of them would work on a ghost. Could ghosts die? Could Clockwork die? 

“Hey, sorry if this is a bad idea, but I don’t have anything else right now.” He found the clasp on the glass case and tugged on it. It was locked. 

“Do not tamper with that.” 

Danny spun around and held his hands up. An Observant floated in front of him. “I didn’t do it, I swear. He was like this when I found him.” 

“Leave.” 

Danny opened his mouth, then frowned. “Are you gonna fix this?” 

“Yes. Leave.” The Observant loomed over him. 

“Yeah, fine, chill out. I’m going.” He stood up and took a long look at Clockwork before flying away. 

* * *

Danny burst through the door. Sam and Tucker ran in behind him.  

“Clockwork!” Danny called. “You here?” 

“Time dude?” Tucker called, jogging across the expansive floor. 

“He might be where you left him,” Sam suggested. 

“I hope not,” Danny said. “Hellooooo!” 

“Yes?” Clockwork casually floated down from a doorway on the second-floor level. 

Danny gasped and flew a tight circuit around him, inspecting him closely. “You’re okay! I was worried man, what happened?” He stopped inches away from Clockwork’s face. “You have no idea how relieved I am right now. God, I’m glad you’re alright.” 

“Yeah, honestly,” Tucker chimed in. “You’re kind of important. Freaked us out, man.” 

“I told you he’d be fine,” Sam said, but she glanced him over too. 

Clockwork had gone tense. He stared Danny down, his eyebrows creased and his mouth set in a frown. “What are you talking about?” he asked in a low tone. 

Danny backed off and tilted his head. “Yesterday?” 

Clockwork’s expression shifted. “Go on.” 

Danny glanced at his friends before continuing. “I came by yesterday, and I couldn’t find you, and then I did, and you were, like—I don’t know!—you looked awful, like you’d died again or something. It was creepy. You don’t—know?” 

“Ah.” Clockwork tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. A wry smirk tugged at his lips. “Interesting.” 

“Hey, uhh, you want to tell us what happened?” Tucker suggested. 

Clockwork frowned at him. “Not particularly. I don’t really care to leave you worrying about matters that have nothing to do with you.” 

Danny floated between Tucker and Sam. He huffed and put his hands on his hips. “If we don’t know what’s going on, we can’t help you out.” He pointed at Clockwork. “And don’t say it’s none of our business. You’re responsible for preventing Evil Phantom from happening, and you’re the reason all of us are alive right now.” 

“We’ve got a vested interest in your wellbeing,” Sam deadpanned. 

Clockwork spun his staff in one hand, carving a slow arc through the air. “I don’t need help,” he said slowly. “But I can explain the basic situation, if it’ll convince you that you have nothing to be concerned about.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow. Tucker gestured at him to continue.  

He shifted to his oldest form. “It’s quite simple, really. Every once in a while, a clock runs down and needs to be wound up again.” 

Sam squinted. Danny frowned. Tucker blinked. “But, you’re a ghost. I realize you’ve got this whole clock aesthetic going on, but you can’t expect us to believe that you actually run on—well—clockwork.” 

“His clock  _was_  stopped,” Danny reminded him quietly. 

“But we know that ghosts have a base energy level,” Sam explained, more to Danny and Tucker than to Clockwork. “Technus doesn’t need electricity to do average ghost stuff like fly, he just needs it for extra powers. Same with Ember, or the Lunch Lady. They can all at least  _exist_  just fine without outside power sources.” She looked up at Clockwork. “Whatever’s going on, it’s more serious than just getting run down.”  

She tilted her chin up. “Try a different story,” she challenged. 

Clockwork rolled his eyes and shifted to his youngest form. “Not every ghost works on the same exact principles,” he groused. “Alright, so an outside force acted upon me and caused the condition you found me in. You couldn’t have stopped it from happening, so stop worrying about it.” 

Sam threw her hands up. “Then tell us what it was! It couldn’t hurt just to tell us what happened, could it?” 

Clockwork hesitated. “It  _could_ ,” he corrected. “It might,” he repeated, seemingly to himself.  

His shoulders slumped. “Oh, fine. This has got to be more interesting than the alternative, anyhow.” He floated down to eye level with his visitors. “I’d make you guess, but that would take forever. Let’s just say...” He waved his staff absently. “There’s a curse-like force that obligates me to take orders from someone, and when I refuse, I’m shut down for a time.” 

Danny straightened. “This has happened before?”  

Sam gaped. “You take orders!?” 

“From who?” Tucker added. 

“Numerous times; begrudgingly, yes; and who do you think?” 

“Thought you weren’t gonna make us guess!” Tucker complained. 

“Is it—” Danny began, eyes wide. 

“No, it’s not Plasmius,” Clockwork cut him off with a wave of his hand. 

Danny let out a huge sigh. 

Sam put her fist to her chin and frowned thoughtfully. “Not Pariah Dark or Fright Knight?” 

Clockwork snorted. “No.” 

Tucker spread his hands out. “Anyone Danny fights on the regular?” 

“No.” 

“Frostbite?” Danny offered skeptically. 

“Nope.” 

Sam shook her head. “Who else is there?” 

“Hang on,” Tucker said. He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through notes. “Not the Dairy King... Uhh... Oh. The Observants?” 

“Yep.” 

Danny tilted his head. “Aren’t they like, ghost government or something?” 

“Not exactly,” Clockwork said. He switched to his adult form. “They make decisions about what they think is best for the Ghost Zone, and they act so infrequently that nobody really bothers to question or stop them.” 

“So—okay, but—you said they cursed you to obey them or something?” Sam looked intrigued. 

“’Or something,’ but yes. It’s very annoying.” 

“When did it happen?” Tucker was typing new notes in his phone. 

“Technically, it happened at the very beginning of time.” 

Tucker gave him an irritated look, then shook his head. “Whatever. Not like an actual year would be helpful or anything.” 

“It really wouldn’t,” Clockwork said. He spun his staff around. “That’s about it. It’s not a curse that you or I could break, so you might as well forget about it.” 

“Sure, sure,” Danny said, brows furrowed in thought. “How’s it work again? You disobey orders and they zap you?” 

“No, they just let me wind down and leave me for a while. I wasn’t kidding about running on clockwork.” 

“They put you in—” Sam snickered. “They put you in time-out?” 

Tucker tried to disguise a laugh as a cough.  

Clockwork raised an eyebrow and fiddled with his staff. “If time-out involves being trapped in one’s own body, unable to move, sense, speak, or rest for days or weeks at a time; then  _yes._ ” He turned his attention back to them, and his tone iced over. “They put me in  _time-out_.” 

Sam and Tucker both looked sheepishly at the floor. Danny grimaced and wrung his hands together. “H- _How’d_  you get cursed?” 

“It was a ‘misunderstanding,’” Clockwork said, enunciating every syllable. “We had to set up an arrangement quickly, and we did, but the Observants took more than they were due.” His tail flicked. “Specifically, my autonomy. In perpetuity.” 

Danny glanced at Sam.  

“Means forever,” she muttered. 

The three of them simmered in frustration, concern, and confusion. 

Tucker straightened up, eyes bright, and then slouched again. “Suppose you’ve already tried time travel, huh?” 

Clockwork tilted his head. “Sort of. I tried to find a way to go back that wouldn’t cause a paradox, but there simply isn’t one. Besides, the existence of time itself was still in flux. I can’t manipulate what happened in the instance that contained the events in question.” 

He saw their baffled faces and continued. “It’s really not worth explaining. The point is, it definitely can’t be fixed that way.” 

Danny ran a hand through his hair. “There isn’t anything we can do? I mean, I don’t know; maybe if we talked to the Observants, we could convince...” He looked up and trailed off. 

Clockwork was shaking his head firmly. “No. Do not waste your time talking to them. Nothing will convince them to nullify or change our agreement. There is nothing you can do.”  

He sighed and gave them a halfhearted smile. “Go home. Don’t worry about it. I’m all wound up again, I’m not going to collapse any time soon; I’m fine.” 

Danny grumbled, unconvinced. Sam got the same glint in her eyes that she got when she was defending the rights of frogs destined for dissection. Tucker shook his head minutely and squared his shoulders. 

Danny reluctantly turned around and motioned for Sam and Tucker to follow. Clockwork watched them go. Danny poked his head back through the door before closing it. “I’m going to do something about this,” he declared. 

Clockwork didn’t answer. 

The door swung shut. 

Clockwork took a few minutes to think as he returned to his work, setting up portals he’d had to close two weeks ago. “This will very likely end in obliteration on multiple levels,” he noted to himself, “but it will certainly be entertaining.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the idea of Clockwork being mostly mechanical and dependent on the Observants (and a few other spoilery details) from thatgirl_youknowtheone. Thanks for letting me use it!
> 
> To Be Continued... Character and specific content tags will be added as they appear with new chapters.


	2. Trade

Danny Fenton walked rigidly through his kitchen. “I guess that’s what the Observant was doing there. I thought he was just checking in or something. I don’t know. I didn’t think about it that much. If I’d known they were the ones who did that to him, I’d have pounded that freak right into next week.”

Tucker put his hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright Danny, you weren’t thinking straight. You were worried. It was a shock for all of us. Also, did you just rhyme on purpose?”

Danny relaxed and elbowed Tucker. “No, but it _was_ pretty good.” He sighed. “Yeah. I guess I wish I’d figured it out sooner.”

“I can’t believe this has been going on for so long without someone setting those monsters straight!” Sam stomped up the stairs to Danny’s room. “It’s a gross violation of his rights!”

“Do ghosts have rights?” Tucker asked, following her through the door.

Danny flopped onto his bed. “I dunno. If we do, they’re weird rights. Walker can sentence you to life in prison for literally anything, and apparently everyone has to keep the Christmas truce. And Skulker tries to skin me like, weekly, and nobody else seems to have an issue with that.”

Sam crossed her arms and paced. “Well then we’ll just apply human laws to them until they set up a proper bill of rights.”

“Hate to burst your bubble, but I doubt they will,” Tucker said from the desk. “Besides Walker and a few goons, none of them seem to really care about laws and stuff, human or otherwise.”

Danny groaned and put his hands over his face. “I’m not going to singlehandedly set up a ghost government. I’m not even interested in law.”

“Well, we have to do _something,”_ Sam insisted. “Let’s start with the Observants. What do we know about them?”

“They’ll all identical ugly eyeball things,” Danny offered.

“The first and only other time Danny encountered them—well, saw them—was about a month ago,” Tucker noted, consulting his phone. “That was when you got lost trying to find Frostbite. You tried to ask for directions but they had someone on trial or something?”

“Yeah,” Danny said, sitting up. “And it seemed pretty legit, so I assumed they were an actual ghost authority. They were debating how to keep this ghost away from humans, because she’d caused too many deaths or something. I didn’t stay for the end, so I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s probably a kangaroo court,” Tucker scoffed.

Sam and Danny gave him puzzled looks.

“It’s a court that’s not really legitimate, either because they’re acting against the law, or they don’t have any real authority. It can look legit, but actually be a huge scam.”

Sam raised her eyebrows, impressed.

Tucker glared. “What? It was in a video game!”

Sam snorted. “So, we know they like to prosecute other ghosts.” She frowned. “For harming humans? Why would they care about that?”

“Maybe they’re involved in time stuff too? That’s probably why they need Clockwork, right?” Danny swung his legs back and forth.

“That would make sense,” Sam agreed. She pulled a notebook out of her backpack and started jotting down notes. “Maybe they’re getting some sort of personal gain or power from changing time? And humans just happen to be part of the whole thing?”

Danny shrugged. He stared at an astronaut poster on his wall. “Maybe it’s just me, but—something seemed off. When Clockwork was talking. Why was he so reluctant to tell us anything?”

“I’m surprised he told us as much as he _did,”_ Tucker said.

Sam shook her head. “Danny, you of all people know how hard it is to share personal information that can be used against you.”

“Ah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s true.” He propped his head up on his hand. “We need to figure out what this thing is, that’s controlling him. He said it was like a curse, and that it was an agreement.”

“And a misunderstanding,” Sam added.

“A contract, maybe?” Tucker set his phone down and booted up Danny’s computer. “But like, a ghost contract? Might even be a situation where the exact wording matters and can be misinterpreted. Like Desiree’s wishes?”

Sam nodded. “Might be something like that.” She looked at the books in her backpack and sighed. “I’m gonna go grab some books on this kind of stuff and meet you back here. Tucker, scour the web for likely leads.”

Tucker gave her a mock salute, already switching between five tabs.

Danny got up and took a breath. “I’m going to check Vlad’s place. He might know something.”

Tucker spun around. “You’re asking _him_ for help?”

Danny put his hands up. “Only as a last resort! I’m gonna snoop around first.”

“Just be careful,” Sam warned him.

Sam and Danny left, and Tucker put on some music.

* * *

Danny Phantom hung sideways in the air, reading the titles of the books in Vlad’s private office. He stopped at one titled _Hexes and Jinxes: A Comprehensive Guide_. He noted its location and moved on, keeping watch for anything on ancient ghost history, contracts, ghost law, or curses.

Nothing.

Danny sighed and hovered over the large office desk, looking over the papers on top. Portal stuff, a bunch of numbers, a sleek blaster sketch.

He was squinting closely at the rows of numbers when a grinning face phased up through the desktop.

“Bwah!” Danny lurched backwards. “Plasmius!”

“What are you looking for?” Vlad floated up to his full height. “Your competence?”

“A reason not to blast you through the wall, actually” he retorted on reflex, slipping into a defensive posture.

A moment later, he forced himself to straighten up. He put his hands together in front of his face. “Okay; no. I have that already. We can duke it out like usual, or you can be super unhelpful in ensuring that we both live past eighty.”

Vlad bristled. “ _Eighty?_ I’m only forty-five!” He composed himself and crossed his arms. “Talk.”

“I was planning to,” Danny said, jumping onto Vlad’s tall desk chair.

Vlad ignored the guest chair and sat on the desk, legs hanging over Danny’s side. He looked impatient.

“Do you know anything about ancient ghost history? Or curses?” Danny asked.

Vlad perked up. “Did you get yourself cursed?”

Danny made a face at him. “No.”

“Pity. Why the sudden interest, then?”

“Can’t tell you.”

Vlad crossed one leg over the other and adjusted his cape. “How does this help me? What did you mean about living past eighty?”

Danny looked away and leaned back. “This kinda indirectly involves both of our lives,” he said carefully. “If I don’t—if this doesn’t work, our chances of meeting a messy and honestly horrific end go up, like, a lot. And soon. Like ‘within ten years’ soon.”

Vlad raised an eyebrow. “I have some information,” he admitted. “What do _you_ have?”

Danny shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t think this far ahead.”

Vlad sighed and let his head fall back. “See, this is what I’m talking about. You can’t even negotiate a simple—”

Danny straightened up. “Wait, I know! If you help me, I’ll—ohh, I can’t believe I’m saying this—I'll spend a day here and you can mentor me or whatever it is you always want to do. Weird father stuff. Fishing. I don’t know. But no funny business!” He wagged his finger at Vlad. “I’ll do this and then things go back to normal, you understand?”

Vlad placed his hands over his heart and beamed. “Why, Daniel!”

Danny stared pointedly at the desk. “Stop making that face or I’ll take it back.”

Vlad laughed loudly. “You’re improving! That’s a fantastic offer! You must really be serious about this.” His grin turned into a smirk. “Make it a weekend and we have a deal.”

Danny whined and let his head fall to the desk. “Deal.”

Vlad giggled and got up to pull books off the shelves. Danny recognized them as ones he’d dismissed. Vlad shucked off their dust jackets and dropped them onto the desk one by one. They all had different titles than their paper covers. “ _Simon’s Guide to Ancient Ghosts_ , _Curse Me Once_ , _Supernatural Antiques_ , _Advanced Witchcraft_ , and _Ghost Zone: Origins_.”

Danny snatched up _Simon’s Guide_ and began flipping through it.

“It would help if I knew precisely what you were looking for,” Vlad commented, flipping idly through _Curse Me Once_.

He ignored him, fingers flying over the text as he scanned. He found Pariah Dark easily. There was a single vague paragraph about the ghosts who had supposedly overthrown him, simply known as The Ancients. Nocturne got a whole chapter.

He found the Observants about halfway through. The illustration showed one wearing unfamiliar robes. Their section described how they kept to themselves except when there were disasters or massive changes of some kind. They always seemed to know more than they should, the author noted, and experts had speculated that they might be omens of great misfortune or tragedy.

Danny hummed thoughtfully and kept reading.

Vlad leaned over his shoulder to see what had caught his attention but refrained from speaking as Danny madly searched for something else.

Near the back were the vaguest descriptions. Unnamed entries; ghosts distinguished instead by era, shape, or disposition. A blinding mass of screaming light. A child who stole people from their beds and returned them _changed_. A grim reaper with only two recorded sightings. A giant shield. Something fast and malevolent that made ghosts disappear forever. But nothing on Clockwork.

Danny sighed and exchanged the guide for _Advanced Witchcraft_.

Vlad cleared his throat. “The Observants, hm?”

He glared up at Vlad. “Yeah.” He flipped sharply through the pages. “What about ‘em?”

“Did you meet them?”

“Just one, but yeah.”

“Just one?” Vlad asked incredulously. “I thought they always traveled in groups.”

Danny shrugged.

“Where did you see them?”

“Uh,” Danny’s hands stopped. “Just out in the Zone,” he said.

“Hm.” Vlad sat on the desk again. “Don’t trust them,” he advised. “The book is right; they know too much.”

“Ohh, I already don’t trust them,” Danny assured him, shaking his head. “If you want to know what happened—well—they cursed someone, and I told them I’d help break it.”

“The Observants cursed someone?” Vlad repeated. “That’s not exactly their style.”

“Maybe, but it’s the truth,” Danny said. “Only it’s an ancient curse, and not exactly a curse at all? Like, an agreement gone wrong? But I need to find out how to get rid of it.”

Vlad frowned and put down his book. “That sounds more like a contract or a deal. A vow perhaps, or an oath.”

“What’s the difference?”

Vlad shook his head and clicked his tongue. “A contract involves an explicit agreement to trade items or services.”

Danny’s eyes went wide and he squirmed in his seat.

Vlad facepalmed and chopped at the air. “Not _that_ kind of explicit, Daniel! Explicit just means it’s stated clearly, so that even a dunce like your father couldn’t misunderstand it.”

Danny’s face shifted rapidly from shock to embarrassment to fury. “You leave my dad out of this!” he seethed, bracing his feet against the floor and clenching his fists.

Vlad smirked and held up his hands. “I’ve been trying to,” he said under his breath. “Anyway, back to contracts. They’re usually public and can be enforced by law, if there is any. Fairly solid and legitimate form of trade if you don’t mind only dealing _over_ the table.”

Danny crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair.

“A deal, on the other hand, involves a similar trade but is less likely to be written down. Deals tend to function on the honor system. The participants trust each other to hold up their sides. Deals are easier to change, and oftentimes the exact terms are left up to interpretation. Deals are like I-owe-you’s; flimsy and frequently vague, but immensely useful if you play your cards right.”

“I keep forgetting you’re a businessman,” Danny said neutrally. “And a crook.”

“That’s not all,” Vlad said, grinning shamelessly. “A _blood_ deal is exclusive to ghost dealings. It’s the same as a normal deal, except that spectral powers charge the agreement, binding the participants to their terms like a curse or wish would. Or laws, for that matter.”

He paused, thinking. “I suppose you could think of it as a combination of a contract and a deal. They can be vague or secret, but a blood deal actively obligates all parties to keep their sides of the deal and punishes any participant who doesn’t.”

He noticed how Danny’s face fell and how his hands folded tightly together, but he continued.

“Now, oaths and vows are very similar. Both involve a solemn promise or commitment to some action. They're more one-sided than deals or contracts; the agreement of both parties isn’t strictly necessary.”

“Oaths are likely to invoke a deity or higher power and tend to cover both positive and negative promises. Vows are usually positive or neutral. You can swear an oath to avenge someone, or you can vow to be a loyal friend, but the inverse is less likely. They’re not interchangeable, but they _are_ extremely close. They also _only_ involve spectral energy if tied to a haunted object or a powerful ghost.”

Danny shifted to sit cross-legged in the chair. “Well,” he said at length. “Sounds like I'm dealing with either a blood deal or an oath. Probably a blood deal though, if I’m understanding this right.”

Vlad’s brow creased. “And you said you wanted to help this friend back out of their blood deal?”

“No, it—they've been in it a long time, but they want out. I guess ‘end the deal’ is a better way of saying it. They kinda got stuck in it by mistake in the first place.”

Vlad leaned back. “Who is it?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Danny said firmly. He looked Vlad in the eye. “How do I help them end the deal without... The punishing part happening?”

Vlad frowned and broke eye contact. He grabbed another book off the shelf, simply titled _Stakes_ , and opened it. “I’m not sure,” he muttered. “It should be in here though.”

Danny floated up and kneeled on the desk beside Vlad to read over his shoulder.

Vlad flipped to the middle and skimmed the pages. “If both members fulfill their end of the blood deal, it ends on its own. The exception is perpetual blood deals, like if one of the promised items is, say, a dollar every week, forever. Is your friend’s deal one of these?”

Danny nodded, eyes on the book.

Vlad turned the page. “In that case, both parties can agree to end the deal together.”

“No,” Danny dismissed immediately. “Impossible.”

“Alright then,” Vlad said, raising an eyebrow. “If one of the parties is permanently destroyed—”

“That’s not an option either.”

Vlad sighed in irritation. “A greater spectral force would have to counteract it, then.  Maybe get ahold of Desiree and wish that they hadn’t made the deal?” He shook his head before Danny could react. “No, nevermind. If the Observants are one of the sides, nothing short of Pariah Dark’s royal decree could budge it.”

“Is that it?” Danny asked anxiously.

Vlad closed the book. “It’s all I could find,” he said. “If there’s something else that works, it didn’t make it into any of my books.”

Danny groaned and hung his head. He let out a long breath. “Well, thanks anyway. If you learn something new that might help, let me know. Remember, your life is on the line.”

“Of course,” he said, without any smarminess or derision. He put his book back on the shelf. He rested his arms on the high back of his desk chair. “Good luck, Phantom.”

Danny kicked off the desk and floated to the ceiling. Suspicion and confusion mixed on his face. “Thanks, Plasmius,” he muttered, and flew away.


End file.
